Poetic Mashup
Sometimes I’ll write a few poems that don’t come out quite right. Either I had a really great idea or a few awesome lines and I’ll work with it for a while but somewhere in the process, I realize I either lost my interest in the subject or took things as far as I could. Basically, they aren’t that great. At the same time, they are decent concepts and I hate to never share them because, and this will sound cliched and lame, but each poem is sort of like a baby to me and I don’t want to think that some babies are more worthy of showing off than others so I thought I’d share some of my less enthusiastically written poems that I’ve been tinkering with over the past several months. Some of them are okay and some of them are better than others but none of them turned out how I would have liked. Although these guys don’t deserve their own entry, I believe they do deserve some acknowledgment. With that being said, here are a few poem fails that I’ve been working on over the past several months.
Black Stone Encasement
chisel into a chasm
this black stone encasement
for cement seeped into the cracks
that spread like entangled veins
drying and solidifying
rotting away the meat within
reaching and rasping and being pulled
farther below and under satisfaction’s surface
calling out through a filter of sealant
sealing in my screaming
weak voices go unheard
as the limestone lingers within
chip away
this black stone encasement
carve until it cracks open
to let the muscle breathe and expand
to recapture its color
screaming and bleeding
until the tensed cords tear
finding it seeped in saline
growing soggy and sorrowful
through the grime and the grout
the soul merges with mortar
in the dark all alone
too remiss to respire
nothing left within
this black stone encasement
gone is the hope for a heart
only maggot filled flesh remains
love is concept
pain is concrete
pounded into my head like a nail
trapped forever in this cave
clawing away at this coffin
confined to this corpse
Retroperistalsis
vitriol flows through your tubes and tunnels
and places your heart in a vexing vice
bubbling up through the cracks in your lips
turning the lungs of loved ones into blocks of ice
your soul sends out a signal of revulsion
the sentiments seep like sewage into the brain
poison sets in like a pustule forming along the throat
traveling to the tongue and manifesting bouts of pain
slipping and spreading and filling and festering
your mouth is engorged with words that slice your gums
percolating and penetrating like puss until it pops
flooding over your teeth and dribbling until it numbs
spew your open throat on others like a geyser of disgust
spreading insecurities like a disease of the heart
cleaving and bleeding and flowing out like a sweeping plague
cracking and splitting open and falling apart
no one can love or live beside the king of vomit
stripping down souls that saunter along your path
pump your sallow stomach to fill up your world
innocents drown in the regurgitation of your wrath
life cannot be lived by lurching such hatred from within
this bawdy bulimia will catch up to you in the worst of ways
finding its way to others while evaporating your organs
leaving only a legacy histrionics at the end of your days
Desiccated World
sand sits in my throat
scratching like my fingers
clawing at the open air
spitting and screaming
ejecting emotion at a rapid pace
losing all the moisture
as it expels from my eyes
skin like emery paper
tongue turning days into decades
as i crawl along this canvas
full of dirt that shears and rips
cracking and corroding my flesh
like floating in an acid bath
only dry, dusty, destitute
no computer or compass
to help me find my way
fully lost and languid
sinking into the submission
of lying down and letting go
giving up my guts in a gust
parted and departing
separating like grains of sand
The Writing Process
i’ll wrap my head ‘round these branches
and pry them apart with so few chances
pleading with the setting sun
give me more light until i’m done
splitting apart bark and bone
killing myself in the sand and the stone
shine the light on my final death
as the breeze cools off my exhaled breath
poetry and plasma fall upon my shirt
dribbles down my waist and drops to the dirt
pick up the red and smear it on paper
savor some now and save some for later
The Twilight (unfinished)
i find myself shedding my shell
my body and my skin
shedding the flesh and the heart
and the bones found within
no confines of capillaries
no boundaries to hold onto
no more laughter and loathing
with this life i am through
transcending and transforming
the pain of love and sadness
into a euphoria of ephemeral
light and joy and madness
i find my soul tripping into a tunnel
of milky striations of light
falling off the face of this world
and transitioning into the twilight
Frankenstein
skin stretched and stitched together
as the brain is bolted to the body
keeping intact the precious portions
and rejecting all of the rotting
electricity to crackle the capillaries
a jolt to jostle the heart into motion
as the eyes pry open like a coffin
with a guttural birthing commotion
the heart arouses awake
beating blood into place
sutures that run along the hands
completed with a composite face
something formed from filtered flesh
and the softest selection of skin
but where can the soul be found
or the hope for the man within?
born dissimilated and damned
and rejected outright
what is to become of this creature
oh, the perils of his plight!
confusion born from a borrowed brain
connected to familiar desires of man
the need to feel the light and the love
to question, to know, to understand
not quite human yet able to feel
as lost and lonely as we all do
connected by a cacophony
singing sorrow in melancholy blue
man is corrupt when constructing creatures
climbing another step in the ladder of life
for greed tells him his place is not high enough
so he births an abomination born from strife
the man, the monster, the machine
where should the labels be placed?
upon the human facsimile
or the one with the human face?
God made man
and man made monster
not with flesh that sizzles
but with himself, an imposter